


Just One Kiss and Last Day of the Month

by Derien



Category: Real Ghostbusters
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-07
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derien/pseuds/Derien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winston and Ray talk about why they can't get and keep relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Many thanks to Eor, Lethe, Tani, Ora and Ami for their multiple and  
> partial read-throughs, kind words and feedback - especially the harsh feedback.;)  
> Extra thanks to Eor for poking me with a pointy stick about background details. And  
> more thanks to Lethe for giving me the inspiration for this story in her "Turbulence."  
> (In that story Winston talks about soldiers in Viet Nam who developed relationships  
> with each other based on the bonds of trust formed in combat.) My title is from a song  
> lyric, but this isn't song-fic. I chose the lyric because the song is somewhat empathic  
> with some aspects of Ray's mindset, I like it, and it's from the era the story is set  
> in.
> 
> Day after day  
> I will walk and I will pray  
> but the day after today  
> I will stop  
> and I will start  
> why can't I get just one kiss  
> why can't I get just one kiss  
> believe me there'd be some things that I wouldn't miss  
> but I look at your pants and I need a kiss
> 
> \--'Add It Up,' Violent Femmes

Winston picked up the remote control and flipped the TV on as he settled into the   
battered couch. He nudged the coffee table to give his long legs more room to stretch   
out, and sighed. Peter and Egon had left only an hour before to spend the weekend at   
Egon's mother's house. In moments Ray would be gone too - some kind of convention;   
comics or sci-fi, Winston couldn't remember which this one was. Then Winston would   
have the firehouse to himself for the rest of the weekend. Two full days to be alone   
and feel lonely. Two full days to get in some serious moping time. Nobody to attempt   
cheering him up, nobody to drag down with him.

Ray drifted into the livingroom of the firehouse quietly, completely unlike his usual   
exuberant self. "Winston, I was thinking." He scrubbed a hand across his hair, then   
squared his shoulders. "Maybe we should go out for a beer down at Sal's. We could   
play pool."

Winston leaned his head back on the couch, closing his eyes and flipped the television   
off. "Ray, m'man, I'm beat, I was going to take it easy and turn in early...." he   
began. Oh hell, he should just face it. Ray always got his way in the end. It was   
the damned big brown puppy-dog eyes. He opened his eyes and saw the concern in his   
friend's round, freckled face. The puppy-dog eyes hadn't started yet, but they were   
on their way. "Okay, sure. We'll go out."

Ray gave him a tentative smile.

Winston's most recent girlfriend had dumped him on Monday, and since then he had been   
withdrawing into television or working on the cars, conversing at the bare minimum   
required. He knew it was worrying Ray, who always wanted his friends to be happy, and   
knew he should drag himself out of his funk, but he just didn't have the ambition at   
the moment. "I can go through the motions," he thought, "to make Ray feel better. It   
might even help me." Although he couldn't see how anything would help in the long run.  
Aside from making a change in his life which he really didn't want to make right now.

After he'd whupped Ray at a game of pool and had three beers, he began to think he   
could attempt to discuss it, if only to make Ray feel like he hadn't wasted his time.   
They gave up the pool table and settled in a booth. Condensation rings from the   
previous customers shone under the drop light which pointed directly down onto the   
table. Winston made a swipe at them with the ridiculously small bar napkin, soaking   
it instantly.

"Look, Ray, I'm sorry I've been so quiet. I guess I'd gotten pretty serious about   
Claire. I was really thinking, maybe this time.... Well, I'm not getting any   
younger, and I've always kind of expected that I'd have a family some day."

"What happened with her, Winston? I thought things were going really well, you guys   
seemed perfect for each other."

"She said it was because I was always breaking dates. You know how crazy it can get   
sometimes. Busts run long or emergencies come up. But she's not the first woman   
who's accused me of being married to the job. We all are - we live where we work,   
we're together all the time. It makes keeping up a relationship pretty near   
impossible. If I ever want to have kids... I've been thinking, this past week.   
Something might have to go." He looked up from his beer and saw Ray's distress.   
"I - "

"No, uh. I know. You really like kids. You're good with them. Your nieces and   
nephews all love you. I know you've always wanted to be a dad."

"Shit, I don't want to leave the team. I don't. You guys are like family. Maybe   
something else has to give. Like the dream of raising kids."

Ray picked intently at a small imperfection in the finish of the table. He looked   
like he could start crying any second, and knowing Ray that wasn't out of the   
question.

Winston stared into his beer and watched the bubbles rise. This was exactly the scene   
Winston had hoped to avoid by having the weekend alone. Ray's unguardedly emotional   
reaction to things often swayed others choices, particularly Winston's, to match what   
Ray wanted.

Ray blinked rapidly and looked up to meet Winston's eyes. "I want you to be happy,"   
he said. "I mean, we all want that. You're our friend."

No matter what Ray felt, he would back up any decision Winston made; Winston didn't   
have to think about that, he knew it. "Maybe I should just be happy with being an   
uncle. I'm a good uncle. I dunno. I wish I could just find a woman who could handle   
the fact that this is the job I've got, the life I've got, and deal with it."

"Well, Janine would understand."

"Uh-huh. Maybe, maybe not. Women can be different about a guy they're actually   
involved with. But Miz Melnitz is... She's a good kid, but I can't imagine what it'd   
be like to have to deal with her ALL the time."

"She's really nice," said Ray, softly.

"Yeah, she is, but just kind of hyper. Or maybe *you* wouldn't notice that." He gave   
Ray a small, fond smile. "No, it's not so much that, because I can deal with that in   
you. I think that's because I can also sit down and talk with you. We can work out   
our differences, or agree to disagree. I don't see Janine doing that."

"You're a smart guy. If you've got something to say you've usually given it some   
thought. I'm interested to hear your opinion."

"See, yeah. I appreciate that, Ray. It's one of the major reasons I like hanging   
around you."

"But..." Ray blushed, smiled, then looked down at the table. "Um, thanks." He   
squirmed and looking up again, said very earnestly, "To be fair to Janine, I'm sure   
she could probably do that, but she might have a different style about it. Or... something."

Winston grinned. "Anyway, you ever seen me go out with a woman *that* skinny?"

"There was that girl, Malika."

"No, she had narrow hips and a pot belly, she wasn't really thin."

"Well." Ray paused. "I... I was just thinking that it's nice you know..." Ray's eyes   
dropped and he traced lines in the puddles on the table, "It's nice for Peter and   
Egon. They're always worrying about each other, but they get to spend lots of time   
together and be there to take care of each other."

"Yeah. Maybe we should hire a couple of women so we can date someone who'll know what   
the job is all about."

Ray's mouth quirked uncertainly. "Have you gotten used to them being together? I   
know it made you a little uncomfortable at first. You tried hard not to show it, and   
I think they were happy you were willing to try. But lately you seem okay with it."

"I've gotten more used to it. I'm sorry it showed that I was uncomfortable. It's   
just that I never was around that kind of thing before. Didn't see guys who were   
involved with each other day in, day out, just hanging together and all. Now it   
seems almost natural."

"I think it is natural."

"What I meant was, they're pretty much like they always were, just a little more   
kissy-face with each other."

"Okay. I was afraid that maybe, deep down, you really felt it was not okay. That   
maybe you were doing a Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner thing."

"No. I think I outgrew those notions shortly after high school. When I got into   
reading the classics and history, and read about the lives of my favorite authors.   
Turned out most of them were gay. Including, it seems, Herman Melville."

"You mean, like, "Moby Dick"? That Herman Melville? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously."

"No kidding. Hey, that makes a lot of sense. So that whole scene where Ishmael and   
Queequeg were 'playing' under the blankets...? Wow."

Winston chuckled. "He probably didn't intend to write those connotations in, because   
it really was not cool for queers in those days. They might as well have been Black.   
Anyway, I'm used to Peter and Egon, now. But I guess I do still kind of wonder what   
might happen if they had a real fight or broke up."

"I don't think anything much would happen, really. They were good friends for years,   
I think they could break up and still know how to be friends."

Winston privately thought that Peter and Egon might not behave nearly as well if Ray   
wasn't around. But as long as he was they would do their utmost to live up to his   
expectations. His unshakable high regard could do that to a person.

"I mean," Ray looked at Winston intently, "I can disagree with you but still care   
about you. The friendship is more important than anything else."

A warning bell rang in Winston's mind. Ray was trying to divine something from   
Winston's reactions, there was something he wanted to know but didn't want to ask.   
What was it? He was certain it was something about their friendship. Perhaps Ray   
wanted reassurance, but Winston needed to be honest as well. "Ray, I don't know what   
I'll decide. It could be that I do have to leave the team. But no matter what   
happens you know you'll always be a good friend. Nothing will change that."

Ray slumped. "I think I'm tired. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure, no problem." Obviously he'd guessed wrong. He slid out of the booth, and as   
Ray stood up Winston attempted to reassure him again with a pat on the shoulder. That   
earned him a weak, uncertain smile.

They settled up their last drinks and stepped out into the warm night. It wasn't a   
long walk back to the firehouse, and Ray didn't speak at all. He watched the ground   
as if he were afraid he'd fall over his own feet. As soon as he climbed up the stairs   
from the garage he went straight to the livingroom, where he plunked onto the couch   
in front of the TV, but didn't even reach for the remote. Winston sighed, mentally.   
This was always a potential danger of Ray trying to cheer him up - Ray could usually   
override a bad mood with his natural optimism, but if the mood got the slightest bit   
of a hold on him it could drag him down badly. The good thing was that he could   
usually bounce back quickly. "Hey, let's go up to the roof, Ray. I'll grab us a few   
more beers."

"Yeah. Okay."

In the kitchen Winston flipped on the fluorescents, winced, and dug into the fridge.   
No beer, only wine. Something of Egon's no doubt, and probably expensive, but he'd   
worry about that later. He pulled the cork and headed up to the roof.

Ray was standing hunched in on himself, arms folded, although the evening was still   
warm.

"Couldn't find any beer," said Winston to his silent back, "But this looked okay.   
It's got alcohol in it." Winston took a swig from the bottle and then stepped over   
next to Ray, who didn't respond. "Come on, man." Winston gently bumped his upper   
arm against Ray's shoulder and offered the bottle over.

Ray wiped at his face and turned to Winston. "Winston, I... I don't want you to   
leave. I know if you have to, I want you to be happy, but-" He threw his arms   
around Winston. This was not an unusual occurrence, Ray being a compulsive hugger.   
But Winston, with one arm around Ray and the other occupied with hanging onto the   
wine bottle, did not expect the hand which Ray slid up the back of his head, pulling   
his head down. He was completely surprised when his friend tipped his own head a   
little back and sideways, and drew their faces close together, until their lips   
touched. His surprise made him recoil.

"Ray!?"

Ray's pale, round face gleamed up at him, turning red. "Sorry! OhshitI'msorry!" He   
took a step back and looked as if he couldn't decide to run or attempt to just drop   
dead, but couldn't take his eyes off Winston for long enough to do either. Winston   
quickly snagged Ray's wrist to keep him from running. He pushed the bottle into his   
hand and gestured to Ray to drink. Ray drank, then handed the wine back, his   
expression blank.

"Uh, are you sure that's you in there, Ray?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you know, we always have to be aware of things like possession in this   
business. Are you sure you're my buddy Ray?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I am, you know I am." Ray dropped his eyes and slumped.   
"Maybe it would be easier to try to pretend I'm not. Sure, that's it, I was   
possessed." He forced out a little breath which sounded as if it had been intended   
to be a chuckle.

"Sit down, Ray."

Ray dropped into the nearest lawn chair as if his legs had given way, and sat staring   
at his hands. The short lawn chair put his knees almost at eye level, and his hands   
rested on them; square, short fingered, clever and capable, and, for the moment,   
still. Winston pulled the other chair a little closer and sat, also looking at Ray's   
hands. He took a drink from the wine and offered it back to Ray.

"Um, Ray. You surprised me."

"Sorry," he said, very meek. He glanced quickly at Winston from the corner of his   
eye, and looked down again, then took the wine and drank. "I really am, I shouldn't   
have done that."

Winston received the bottle, but set it down for the moment. "You look like you think   
I'm going to hit you. You know I wouldn't do that, don't you?"

Surprised, Ray met his eyes full on and guileless. "Gosh, of course. You could swat   
me like a fly, but I know you wouldn't. I just..." He looked down again. "Well, I   
put you in an uncomfortable position, and that wasn't fair of me. I mean, when Egon   
and Peter got together you and I both said 'well, fine for them, but that's not my   
thing.' I meant it, too, it's not. I like girls. But they go out with me a couple   
of times and then decide I'm a great friend but they don't want to be involved with   
me in *that* way. I don't know, is it me? It must be."

"Shit." Winston picked up the wine and took another swig, then passed it to Ray, who   
took it but held it listlessly. "No, it's not you, m'man, you're a great guy." He   
suddenly felt like a complete asshole for being depressed about Claire dumping him.   
At least he'd had a few good months with her, and before her with Yolanda. "But you   
can't think that you're going to turn to guys just because some women turned you down.   
I mean, the right woman must be out there for you. One who's smart and realizes   
you're a great guy."

"No. No, it's not like that at all." Ray tipped the bottle up to his mouth, held the   
wine in his mouth before swallowing, observing the wine in the bottle. He took another   
drink, gazed out over the rooftops, and finally said, quietly. "Not that I didn't   
think about it. It did cross my mind, but when I ... well, I did some research."

"Research?"

Ray set the bottle down carefully within Winston's reach without looking at him.   
"Research. I got some magazines." He picked at the seam of his jeans. "And all that   
told me was ... well, I guess it told me what I already knew. I didn't find pictures   
of guys all that interesting. But I never was all that interested in nude photos of   
women. I mean, interested, but not nearly as interested as some people seem to be.   
Like Peter."

"But look how it turned out with him." Winston took his turn with the bottle, and   
made it a point to put it in Ray's hand. "He ended up giving me his subscription   
to Playboy because he hasn't bothered to look at it in three months."

"Yeah. He was so into his magazines before, but now he's with Egon he hasn't got time   
for them. He didn't even offer me his subscription." Ray took another drink from the   
bottle. "What is this stuff? God it's horrible. Must be expensive. We'll have to   
buy Egon more." He took another drink. "Photos. Photos are abstract. I want a   
whole..." He tried to wave his hands in a kind of amorphous three-dimensional shape,   
set the bottle down between them and tried again. "Thing. To know a person."

"Yeah, I can see that. You want to be in love."

Ray nodded, and continued carefully inspecting his jeans. "Maybe. Something like   
that. I'm not sure if 'In Love' is exactly necessary, but... someone I love. And I   
think it's just not as important to me exactly what they ...look like. What ...body   
they're in. You know?"

"Oh." Winston picked up the wine bottle and drank again. He thought he saw where   
this was going now.

Ray squirmed in his slouchy lawn chair and gave him a sideways look. "It's just that   
the thought of you leaving... It scared me. I'd miss you so much. And I just... I   
hadn't before and when I thought you might be considering leaving it occurred to me   
that I might not get another chance."

Suddenly Winston understood why women kept turning Ray down. It was terrifying to be   
faced with such a caring, loyal, and seemingly naive person, offering you a position   
in his life where you could potentially demolish him. If that was what he was   
offering. That would be a really bad mistake to make. It could have been a moment of   
temporary insanity on his part; shouldn't hold a man to something he did rashly. "No,   
wait," he thought to himself, "Ray is impulsive, but not rash. He did *research* for   
heaven sake. And that is so like him."

He smiled despite himself as he set the wine bottle back down between them. Then he   
realized Ray was watching him curiously.

So Winston grinned. "You did research?"

Ray chuckled, one short bashful noise. "Yes. And I noted that the only pictures I   
was interested in were ones which looked like people I cared about. And the people I   
care most about in the world are you, Peter and Egon. When I realized that, I   
stopped looking at the pictures. I didn't want to be thinking about you if you didn't   
want me to."

Typical of Ray - not wanting to do anything his friend might be uncomfortable with,   
even in the privacy of his own head. Damn, the guy was... "Think it, man; you can at   
least think the word. He's sweet."

"Ray. Forgive me being blunt, here."

"Sure."

"But are you really thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking?"

"I think so."

"Peter and Egon... me and you?"

"Yeah. That would be.... yeah. It has a kind of symmetry to it, doesn't it? And it   
would solve some problems."

"That's a pretty cold way of thinking about it."

"Cold?" Ray looked distressed.

"Well, just the idea of starting a relationship because it would solve the problem of   
finding relationships."

"You know that's not how I'm feeling."

"Yeah. I do. Cold is the last thing you ever are. You're just trying to be careful.   
To me. Which is how you are. You know this is a lot for me to absorb all at once."

"Yeah. All I'm asking for now is that you think about it. Take all the time you   
need."

"Thanks. I will need some time. It's something I've never considered before."

Ray nodded, picked up the bottle and drank again as he stood up. "Um, listen. I   
could still go to the convention tonight, if you'd feel more comfortable."

"That's on? I thought I had the wrong weekend." Winston accepted the wine back as   
he stood, drank once more and recorked what remained.

"It's this weekend. I stayed to talk to you, because you seemed so upset. But,   
well, I know I can still get in at the hotel - there will be people I know who will   
let me crash on a floor. And I'm thinking I won't get much sleep if... if I have to   
sleep in the bunk room tonight."

"It's late for you to be going out. But yeah, you're right, maybe it would be best."   
He could see Ray was trying to do the right thing and remove himself so that Winston   
could think without distraction. "You're a good guy, Ray. The best."

Ray shuffled his feet, looked at the door off the roof, looked back up at Winston,   
then took a deep breath and asked, "Before I go... is there any chance I could get   
one kiss that isn't stolen?"

"Uh... I..."

"No, I'm pushing you, I said I wouldn't do that."

"Now, Ray, just..." He'd never had the willpower to tell Ray he couldn't have   
anything he wanted, so he set the wine-bottle down. "Can we make it a small one?"   
The look of excited disbelief which glowed on Ray's face drew a smile to Winston's   
face as well. He added, "I guess I should have an idea about what I'm deciding on."

Ray couldn't contain himself, he bounced to Winston and threw his arms around him in   
a tight hug, pressing his head against Winston's shoulder for a moment before pulling   
back a little to look up.

As Winston lowered his head to meet Ray's lips time did that weird dilating thing that   
happens during car crashes, where you don't need to go through sequences of thought,   
you're just aware of multiple conclusions at the same moment. He was aware of the   
completeness of Ray's trust in the way he tipped his head back, which sent a   
surprising jolt of tension down through his stomach at the moment their lips touched.   
Ray, who was always as unfailingly trustworthy and supporting as he was trusting, now   
wanted other things from him besides brotherly affection. He was aware of the   
masculine mass of Ray's body, the firm press of his buddha-belly against the lower   
part of Winston's flatter stomach, and equally aware that he wanted to concentrate   
and make this good for Ray, who deserved good in his life. Even so, when Ray's lips   
parted Winston almost pulled back - somehow he hadn't been prepared for that, though   
he realized he should have been. Certainly Ray wouldn't have let this opportunity   
pass with a docile, lip-closed dry peck. After a tremor he managed to overcome that   
impulse and meet the challenge. Ray's tongue, tasting of the wine they had shared,   
moved with clumsy enthusiasm, his arms and body enveloping Winston with hungry   
intensity, and all in all, Winston realized, this wasn't half bad, maybe he could get   
used to it. One of his hands had managed to roam, without Winston's conscious will, up   
to the back of Ray's head.

When Winston finally broke the kiss he drew back and ruffled Ray's hair. "Yeah, now.   
Those chics don't know what they're missing." Before stepping away he gave Ray's   
shoulder a gentle squeeze, not sure what he could say. "Thanks." He looked hard   
into Ray's eyes. "No matter what I decide, I'm honored."

Ray grinned up at him, all his natural enthusiasm restored, although he seemed to be   
shaking a little. "Take as long as you want to think. Really, I'll be fine whatever   
you decide."

Winston smiled back at him. "It is a lot to think about. But, hey, you made me   
forget about Claire."


	2. Chapter 2

Winston thudded down endless stairs with a forty-five kilogram pack on his back ahead of something that was all teeth and claws and shrieked like a steam train, and it crossed his mind to wonder why he loved a job that regularly put him in situations that most people would call nightmares. A quick blast back over his shoulder took out the light on the landing above and slowed the Class Seven enough for him to get around a corner and slam out through a door into a hallway. A niche with heavily curtained windows offered shelter - if the entity would only keep following at the breakneck pace it had been setting so far it might overlook him and sweep on by. In the niche, a small table with a vase of flowers left only a narrow space between it and the wall, which he slid quickly into as the ghost came though the door behind him and shot down the hall. It screamed to the end of the hall and wailed off to the right. Not knowing how much reprieve he might have, Winston fumbled for his radio. "Zed here, I'm on Floor Seventeen. Class Seven in area."

After an endless two seconds he had a response. "This is Ray. I'm on the Fifteenth, coming up the east stair. Just wrapped up three Class Threes in one trap!"

"Good work, Ray."

"Nah, mostly luck - I opened the trap, they practically fell in. It made me laugh."

Ray was in the east stairwell. Where was Winston? He tried to make out the number on the nearest apartment. 1720 - the last apartment. "I'm on the west end." Which meant Ray might come accross the floor and encounter the ghost still seeking Winston. He keyed the radio again and added, "The Class Seven went down the south corridor, last I saw."

"Okay, I'll stay on the north side. Almost there." Ray was obviously running up the stairs, breathing hard. For someone who looked chunky he could keep moving fast for a long time. But unlike the others, he would take a pack on his back on off days and run up and down the stairs at the firehall just to keep in practice - he'd done it only the day before, running for almost a half-hour at breakneck speeds down one set of stairs and up the other, then back again.

"This is Peter. We have another Seven we're tied up with. Come see us as soon as you can - we're on the south side of the Eighth floor, pinned down." In the background of the transmission could be heard the crackle of pack-fire and smashing noises. "I hope the residents have ghost insurance, there's not going to be much left."

"At least you aren't necking in a closet," Winston muttered to himself, immediately feeling quite uncharitable. He keyed the radio. "Ray, you heard that? Let's meet on the Eighth."   
Silence. Then he heard the wail of the entity, and footsteps thudding in the distance, moving quickly toward Winston. Ray was too busy to answer the radio. Winston moved the table out of the niche, hoping that if it was sitting against the wall with it's vase still on it, the ghost wouldn't notice it was out of place. With luck the same trick might work again, if it was a really dumb ghost. He had to hope Ray made enough gain on the entity. The long hall meant he needed more distance than Winston had needed to be out of visual range.

Ray was slowed a little by the corner, but still moving fast. Winston beckoned from the niche, then reached to catch Ray - the inertia of a forty-pound pack made it hard to stop - and swung him into the niche just before the ghost shrieked around the corner. They clung face to face, their shoulders against the wall, as the size of the packs made their profiles narrower against the wall that way. His face was red and he was breathing hard, but his eyes were bright with exhileration. As the Seven screamed by Ray held his breath and ducked his head until it almost touched Winston's shoulder to hide his grinning face. The ghost went through the door into the stairwell and Ray bounced out of the niche and was off down the corridor in the opposite direction. "Eighth!" he called back.

Winston followed, unable to keep the grin off his own face. The job could be dangerous, it could be truly nightmarish at times, but it had it's fun moments, particularly when Ray was involved.

They'd only made it down a couple of flights before they could hear the entity in the stairwell above them, wailing like a siren. Ray rounded the corner of the stairwell a split second ahead of Winston, Ray's arms went up, and Winston could hear the sickening slide-thud of body and nuclear accelerator on stairs for only a moment before he rounded the same corner and saw Ray crumpled at the bottom.

"Dear Lord!" was propelled from Winston's lips as though by a kick to his gut. "Ray!"

Within moments, as Winston reached him, Ray was moving again. "I'm fine!" he responded, cheerily.

"You're sure? Don't move!"

Ray was already wrenching himself back upright, but then he paused, his head cocked, listening. "Can you hold it off a minute? Something's wrong with this pack." He began the squirm out of the straps the held the ion accelerator to his back.

Stalling a Seven with a single pack - not Winston's idea of a good time. Winston spun and took aim at the entity, which was just rounding the corner above them. A short burst at full power slowed it, and another drove it back a bit. He didn't want to hold it, just hurt it and scare it. The thing shook what might be called it's head, or the part with the teeth in it at any rate, and started toward them again, to take another short blast. It fell back again.

Ray already had his small toolkit out of the cargo pocket of his coveralls and was selecting a screwdriver.

Winston cranked his pack up to full power and gave the ghost one more blast, short and sharp. It screached and, deciding it's time would be better spent on less annoying prey, disappeared through the ceiling.

Ray had removed a panel from his pack. Now that the screaming Seven was gone even Winston could make out the unnatural whine coming from it. Ray fished a small bottle of WD40 from another pocket and injected something inside the open panel, stuck the screwdiver in, and the whine stopped. His hands move quickly and surely - he joggled the screwdriver within for a moment longer, then was quickly replacing the panel and screws and stowing the toolkit away. "Okay, all set!" Twisting to put the straps back on his shoulders, a grimace crossed his face for the barest moment.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Winston asked, offering him a hand up.

"Sure, no problem." Ray used Winston's hand only for balance, pulling very little as he bounced to his feet. "I might be a little stiff tomorrow, but I'm barely feeling a thing right now."

"It's all that adrenaline," Winston reminded him. "I - I'm glad you're okay." He gripped Ray's shoulder. Then he muttered, "Oh, heck with it," and leaned down to kiss Ray quickly. Now he knew why they'd found Egon and Peter in that closet, necking, that time. It was hard to resist the surge of relief that insisted life be affirmed when it had been recently imperiled. He pulled back from Ray's lips regretfully after a short moment. "Sorry, no time."

Ray grinned up at him. "I guess that's a 'yes.' We can talk later. Eighth floor now."

"Later," Winston agreed, with a nod, and Ray whirled off down the stairs again with Winston close behind.

They got to the Eighth floor in record time. From the turn of the hall they could tell that Peter and Egon's Seven still had them pinned down by the spintered bits of household furnishings which were flying out the door. Winston grabbed Ray's shoulder to pause him before he went charging down the hall, pulling him back around the corner out of sight of the Seven. Ray's eyes were round and questioning, but he said nothing.

Winston keyed his radio. "We're at the corner of the hall. Acknowledge?"

"Hear you," Peter's voice crackled back, "We're as ready as we're going to be, we have a trap ready. Any time is good."

Winston and Ray came around the corner at full speed, on either side of the corridor, throwing beam as they came. A beam came from the doorway, and beneath it Peter did a ducking scramble into the hall, trying to find a position from which he could bring his own pack into play. In moments they had all four beams on the entity and able to hold it long enough for Egon to kick his trap out and step on the pedal which opened it. The Seven screamed even louder as it fought the brilliant light, but it was inevitably sucked in and the trap snapped shut.

They didn't bother patting each other on the back because they still had the other Seven to hunt down. However, within the next half hour they were able to give their victory cheer - raggedly tired - and were on their way home, stopping for some Chinese food on the way. Though Winston knew he'd be vacuuming fried rice up off the floor the next day, they were all so hungry and tired that he broke down and allowed them to eat in the car. He himself managed to snarf a large order of chicken fingers as he drove. The quiet engendered by exhaustion and eating gave him time to muse, and, as usual for the past month, his thoughts turned to the situation with Ray.

He had reacted strongly to Ray's fall, with a sudden irrational, superstitious fear. That had been one of those accidents that could happen any day at home. People fell down stairs every day and broke their necks, and Ray quite often liked to keep in training by running up and down the stairs at the firehall with a spare pack on. It had made Winston realize the frailty of human existance for just a moment - the fact that Ray could be gone, in the space of any given instant, snatched from Winston with their issues left unresolved. He'd been thinking hard in the past month, spending a lot of time reading and talking with with Peter, and it was really high time he went back to Ray to discuss the situation again and get this thing worked out. This evening, when they got home, would not be too soon.

Winston had never had any trouble meeting women and starting relationships. Unfortunately, since starting this job, a couple of years ago, he'd also had no trouble at all ending relationships. That happened by itself, without any effort on his part. The semi-famous status they had aquired after only the first few months had brought with it more attention from women, but most of them had other interests besides a relationship. They thought there was money or reflected fame to be found, and when neither was forthcoming they disappeared. The ones who wanted stability and family life were driven away by the all-encompassing nature of the job.

But he loved the job. He couldn't imagine what else he could do that would give him the same kind of rush. And he couldn't ask for better people to work and live with. Ray, Peter and Egon had been best of friends to each other and a tight team already, but they had accepted and integrated him into both the team and the friendship without the least hesitation. And the acceptance into the friendship was, he knew, entirely down to Ray's open, trusting nature. Winston had quickly spotted the fact that Peter's initial friendly and outgoing facade was a cover-up for his mistrust of people, and it was obvious that Egon was happy to follow Ray's lead because he didn't want to spare the brainpower from his work to think much about human interactions.

He had grown to love the guys. What he hadn't anticipated was being loved in return, or at least not in quite this way. It had surprised him when Ray offered, as a solution to their shared batchelor status, that they need not be alone if they had each other. Winston was surprised at how quickly he'd begun to find it possible to seriously contemplate a romance with Ray, although he knew that speed had everything to do with the person he was contemplating. And it wasn't a linear progression, by any means. He had spiraling in on the idea - two steps forward, a step back, a step sideways. He had promised Ray he would think about it, and he tried to keep that promise even at times when it seemed most ludicrous.

That first night, after they'd talked and Ray had asked for a single kiss, Winston had lain in bed with wine still buzzing through his body along with a confused and frustrated sexual tension, and been both glad and unhappy that Ray had been so considerate as to leave for the night. Glad, because he knew in the sane part of his mind that this was too much too fast and that he had to think hard. But all he'd been able to think about was being loved, though at that moment his mind hadn't wanted to go further than the image of having someone to curl his body around as he fell asleep. He had rolled on his side and wrapped his arms around his stomach, wondering what Ray's smaller, solid, chunky form would feel like under his arm and against his belly, but that night he pushed the thought away, uncomfortable with it.

During the night he'd awoken from a dark, crowded dream, struggling up from his blankets to semi-consciousness feeling very wrong. By morning he'd nearly forgotten the dream and he got started fairly early, after a leisurely breakfast, to spend the day roaming through bookstores and reading in the public libraries, letting luck and intuition draw him to books which helped him reflect. Oddly, one of the first books he'd found was for gays who were raising children. He'd mused over that one for a few minutes, though he didn't end up buying it. He wondered later whether it had been put in his way by Providence just to remind him that it would still be possible to be a parent if he chose to be in a relationship with Ray. Not easy, certainly, but possible. And, it suddenly occured to him, maybe it was a good thing that parenting not be something that could be fallen into casually. Maybe it would be good if it required a little effort, to prove you really wanted to raise a child.

He'd also found a few articles discussing and reconciling homosexuality and Christianity - not easy to find, but he was skilled at searching for the difficult to find. He knew his Bible, backward and forward, and he could tell some of these articles reflected quite good Biblical scholarship. Others were very emotional, but had their merit in arguments concerning God's love being all-encompassing. He had begun to come to his own reconciliation, emotionally, many months before when Peter had gotten involved with Egon, but it made him feel stronger to have detailed arguments which he would be able to present to others if the topic came up. Though he hadn't brought the topic up the next day when he'd gone to church and then to dinner with his brother's family. He'd spent the afternoon playing with the kids, and brushed off his brother's query about what was on his mind, saying it was just that he'd broken up with his last girlfriend.

He'd first spoken with Peter about the situation that evening, Sunday, as soon as he and Egon arrived home from Egon's mother's house. Certainly that first conversation had been a revalation to them both, though many points they'd discussed in following conversations got blended together in Winston's memory. When Egon and Peter walking into the garage area through the small door with their overnight bags Winston rolled out from under Ecto 1 to greet them - he'd been making adjustments to the car, again - and noticed that the light was failing. Thinking at first that it was odd they'd arrived back before Ray, he quickly realized Ray might be staying away until they were sure to be home so as not to be alone with Winston again too soon. He'd wiped grease off his hands as he asked after Egon's mother and heard the mandatory complaints from Peter about how uncomfortable the seats on the train were. Egon assured him they were not so uncomfortable as to keep Peter awake. Finally he got up his courage and, letting Egon know he hated to bother them both so soon after arriving home, but, "Could I speak to the shrink for a few minutes?"

Egon's curiosity was obviously piqued, but he just raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Certainly. I'll take the bags up and then prepare cocoa."

As Egon walked away Peter invited Winston to his 'office.' "What seems to be bothering you?"

Winston brushed himself off and settled in the wooden chair. "Well, I don't quite know where to start, but... Well, Ray made me an offer."

"An offer?" Peter plopped down behind his desk and put his feet up, wide awake now that he had something on which to turn his attention. "What kind of offer?"

"Umm. A proposal?"

"You're getting married? Congradulations!"

"Not quite, but... along those lines."

"You're... You're pulling my leg."

Winston just looked at Peter, mutely.

"You're serious. This is... This is just wrong." Peter's expression was unreadable. "How could you?"

Winston was confused and annoyed. "I didn't think you, of all people, would have any problem with this."

"How could I not? How could you even consider guys and not be pining for the Glory that is Venkman? No no, there's something seriously wrong, here."

"Oh, sorry, I should have guessed this would be a blow to The Ego that is Venkman. Since you got together with Egon you've just gotten the impression that you're irresistable to men as well as women, is that it?"

"That does seem to be the case, doesn't it? And why shouldn't I be?"

"Yeah, right. Whatever. Anyway, my point is that I'm not 'considering guys.' I'm not into guys. I mean, I never have been, not the slightest bit, interested in guys. That's why this whole thing with Ray is just... I don't know what to do with it."

"I hope you'll be very happy together."

"Try to be a little less self-absorbed just for a minute. I need your shrink skills, here. This is my life I'm talking about here. And his. What am I going to do?"

Peter slapped the side of his own head. "Sorry." He looked genuinely sorry, too.

Of course his stock in trade was looking genuine, but Winston was sure he actually was. And here he'd thought Peter was jokingly giving him a hard time. "You..." Winston couldn't find his voice for a moment. "You weren't trying to tell me you were... interested in me?"

Peter's brows drew together. "I didn't say that."

"I thought you were happy with Egon?"

Peter sighed. "Okay, okay. Yes, I'm happy with Egon, I'm very happy and wouldn't want anything to change there. But I'm also not dead and I AM self-centered and I want everything. But I can't have it. Now can we forget I ever said any of that and move on?"

Winston closed his eyes and opened them again, wondering if he'd slipped into an alternate universe. It was completely in character for Peter to want everything and be self-centered, so it wasn't likely he was possessed by some vengeful spirit. "Okay. Forgotten. So, what do I do with Ray?"

"If you don't want to, you say no. But I couldn't imagine why you wouldn't want to."

"We just don't have anything romantic there. I'm not in love."

"Were you in love with Claire when you first started dating her?"

"Well, no. But there was some kind of spark there."

"My guess - she was pretty and you didn't know anything about her. You were initially physically attracted and that made you willing to make a romantic effort. Thrill of the chase type of thing. Sometimes the unexplored is attractive. Getting to know someone is interesting - discovery and all that. You can pretend they don't have any negative attributes. But knowing someone is also cool. You already know Ray, so there's not as much new stuff to learn. You know how he acts in the morning and all. But there is one whole area in which you don't know anything about him. And he is kinda cute, in his own way. And cuddly. I think if you decided you were willing to make a romantic effort you might find he becomes more physically attractive to you."

Winston chuckled, fondly. "Yeah, he is cuddly." The word brought to mind the feel of their bodies together, the particular snuggle Ray had given that was somehow different from his normal hug snuggle. He tried to push the thought back. "I guess I always thought of him as that baby brother. Never really thought about him even having a libido. I guess if anyone had ever suggested he had wet dreams I'd have thought they'd be about ghosts."

"I wouldn't put it past him! He is an adult though, not a kid, no matter how childlike he acts sometimes."

"Yeah, so I found out. I have to rearrange my thinking."

Ray had eventually arrived home quite late, saying he'd accompanied his friend Melissa to the airport and hung out with her there, because he hadn't seen her in nearly a year and they'd had a lot of catching up to do. He'd been in a good, though quiet, mood, and seemed unwilling to meet anyone's eye until eventually Egon asked him if they could look in quickly on the experiment they'd had going on Friday. A few minutes later they emerged from the lab and Ray seemed a little more at ease.

The next morning, Monday, Winston again woke with a spasm from a dream of tangled limbs and blankets, with a deep sense of shame. He looked across the room to where Ray was still gently drooling on his pillow and was still looking when Ray's eyes opened. He jerked his eyes away and Ray immediately began talking about how bright the sun was, and had his blue canary nightlight died in the middle of the night... Winston hid his head under his pillow as he often did when he just wasn't ready to face the exuberance of Ray in the morning, and wondered if he'd still be allowed to do that if he were in a relationship with Ray. Or what would he do if he had a girlfriend who talked like that? Ray already knew to shut up and leave the room if Winston hid his head. Would a girlfriend get upset at the same behaviour? Come to think of it one of the worst fights he'd ever had with a girl had been brought on by something like that.

A month, he felt, was an amazingly short time for all the thinking he'd had to do, especially considering that normal life went on as normally as life busting ghosts could be. They had a few jobs, nothing particularly interesting or extraordinary, unless you counted the accident which had turned Ray into a woman for a few brief days. Other than that it was the usual sort of thing - busts with Peter getting well slimed (once with frosting, which delighted Egon to no end) and squabbles over who's turn it was to do some chore, Slimer stealing food, Janine reading magazines, filing her nails and talking to her sister on the phone all at the same time.

Winston was always amused by how Janine could seem like she was doing nothing and yet be on top of her job completely - all the bills always got paid and collected. He asked after the guy she'd been seeing, somehow dredging up the name 'Gary.'

"Gary who? Oh, the cop? Long gone - he stood me up too many times. This girl's not being walked over."

During each day he noticed the many small instances in which it was nearly effortless for him to communicate with and understand Ray. And as he tested himself on thoughts of Ray each day, as one's tongue constantly strays to the annoying gap caused by a lost tooth, he noticed more comfort with these thoughts. His initial tension became a warm thrum, a guitar string feeling that ran from his heart through his stomach, and each day it felt as though the lower end of the guitar string moved down so that it became a deeper and sweeter vibration. During one of his discussions with Peter the psychologist had dubbed this "the chicken-egg phenomenon of attraction."

"A person often responds to the signals given off by another person who is attracted to them, whether the signals are overt or covert," he said, in lecture voice. "Or to put it into normal-person-speak, you catch their vibe."

"Is that how it was with you and Egon?" Winston asked.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. That was something that grew over time, and it would be hard to say which of us sent out the first vibe. Although I have to suspect he was attracted to me to begin with to make as much of an effort as he did to be a friend, because I was an asshole. No, I was," he responded to Winston's laugh, "Grade A asshole, believe me. He worked hard to make a human being out of me. And you can tell about how interested he is in people in general, so there must have been something else at work in his head than simple milk of human kindness."

Later Winston mentioned to Egon that Peter gave Egon credit for making a human being of him, which elicited a dry chuckle from Egon. "A human being? That would be stretching it a bit. Although I'll admit he is slightly less intollerable than when we first met."

Apparently Winston was a little thicker than he liked to admit. Normally he was good with picking up people's vibes, but he'd needed to be hit in the head with a brick before he realized the existance of this one. Now, though, he seemed to be getting it loud and clear. When Ray gave him that look that he'd always taken as a sort of little-brother-hero-worship sort of look he realized it was actually adoration. Or maybe they were the same thing, and always had been.

Suddenly he noticed how often Ray normally touched him - Ray was usually quite comfortable with small touches and hugs to all of the guys - and the fact that in the first week after they had their initial conversation Ray almost completely stopped touching Winston at all. He seemed to be restraining himself, probably trying to avoid influencing Winston unduely. The normal pat on the shoulder he usually gave Winston on passing by him was not there, and Winston noticed it's absence. To see Ray give him a quick sideways glance instead did something odd to Winston's insides, it made him want to scream "Touch me! It's okay - I won't bite you!" Then the thought of saying "Touch me!" twanged something inside his chest, like a guitar string which ran down through his stomach. Yes, he was definetly getting synchronized with Ray's vibe, now.

One evening Winston volunteered to help Peter when it was his turn with the laundry. After they got the first load started Peter pulled the old kitchen chair around and tilted back, putting his feet up on the dryer. Winston leaned against the washer. With the semi-dark basement to hide his face somewhat he felt able to say to Peter, "I can't help thinking that this is the kind of choice that people in prison make."

"Are you saying that our Ray reminds you of a convict?"

"No, not at all. But if I did this, would it only be so that I can have a sexual outlet?

"Do you think, with Ray, it could be only sex? He's not like me - I'm pretty sure that every person he's ever had sex with he had some feelings for, if not before than afterward. Not conventionally romantic, I'm sure, but a good guy who'd share everything with you. He'd want to be there to listen to anything you needed, he'd do his best to provide it. He'd never intentionally hurt you."

Winston nodded. "Drive me crazy inadvertantly, perhaps, but never hurt me. But, wait a minute, you said 'every person he's ever...' Um, how many would that be? I mean, I just never pictured...?"

"Hell, if you turn him down, maybe I'll ask Egon if - "

"Oh Lord. I'm really not ready to go there quite yet I think! You're trying to distract me from my question."

"So you're afraid you're going to use Ray? And dump him if you meet a woman?"

"Well I'm always meeting women. And I don't want to be put in that position. You're still trying to distract me from my question."

"Because I said more than I should have said. That's the kind of stuff Ray should talk with you about himself. Don't let any of it change your opinion of him. He's a good person, you know that. He's the person you know him to be. Just because he's got a little more experience than you'd expect, that doesn't change anything. I don't know if he doesn't say anything about that stuff because he's maybe a little afraid it will change our opinions of him, or if he's somehow ashamed of it - I hope not - or if he's just not the type of person who needs to crow about his conquests, like I always do. He might be a little more secure in himself than I am. Like I said, I think it was all done with ... a lot of feeling on his part. Anyway, as far as you meeting a woman - he might be just fine with you having a girlfriend, too. And hey, there's probably plenty of women who would see a lot of potential fun in having a guy who has a boyfriend." Peter grinned wolfishly.

"Uh." Winston wasn't sure whether to pretend that he believe Peter to be joking or respond to it seriously. "Really, I'm not sure I'm ready to go there. Let me get used to one thing at a time."

"I'm just saying, not everyone has the same needs," Peter responded, in a voice which gave Winston the distinct impression that he thought knew a whole lot more about Ray's needs than Winston did, but that he wasn't going to say a thing more about it.

Winston decided it was time to change the subject a little. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. I've been having these dreams. They're... disturbing."

"A recurring dream?"

"Well, sort of themed."

"Okay, I'm putting on the shrink hat."

"Um. Maybe it requires some background. Y'know, we didn't have a lot of money when I was young. That got a little better later on, but when I was young, this was before my youngest brother was born, we had a two room apartment. It was pretty crammed."

"Yeah, I was lucky to be an only child. I remember some of my friends lived in pretty crowded conditions."

Winston nodded, thankful that Peter already knew how it was. "My parents had one room, and my two brothers and I had to share a double bed in the other room. Anyway, in my dreams I'm seem to be an adult, but I'm back in that bed, with my brothers, and they're still kids. It doesn't make sense."

"Sometimes dreams don't seem to. So then what happens?"

"Nothing."

"That's it? You're in the bed...?"

Winston could feel his jaw clamp, and he swallowed. He knew Peter was watching his expression closely in the semi-dark, and he tried to concentrate on the detergent smell covering the slight mildewy smell of the basement, the fact that the washer had gotten unbalanced and begun thumping - anything but think about that dream, right now. "Yeah, that's all. Then I wake up."

Peter continued to regard him a moment longer, then asked, "How often are you having this dream?"

"Nearly every night, now. Sometimes a couple of times in a night. Makes me not want to sleep."

"Hm." Peter tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. After a minute he let the chair legs down with a thump, rose, and began pacing the basement, pausing here and there to tap things lightly. After a bit he returned and levered himself up to sit on top of the dryer. "You're the oldest in your family, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Hear me out and try to think about this. You don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to. Now, I find it interesting that you've said to me, a couple of times, and quite unequivically, that you've never before felt the slightest sexual interest in any guys. Of course it's generally felt, now, that Kinsey's studies were skewed, but *he* thought that almost everyone at some point experienced some attraction to people of the same gender as themselves. Even given that his studies were skewed, I find it odd that you say you never experienced such a thing before, but you seem to be doing so, now. I mean, at least from what I can see from your actions it appears to me that you are at least somewhat interested in Ray."

Let's just say, hypothetically, there was a young boy with his first hormones running rampant." Peter was obviously trying to keep his lecture voice up, but here his words began to sound rushed, as though he needed to spit the whole thing out at once and get it over with. "He's from a good Christian family, and a well-behaved and serious-minded kid, but he's got these young male bodies right next to him as he's falling asleep every night. It seems likely that he could easily begin to associate male bodies with the feelings of awakening sexuality because of what's going on in his body. Beyond his control." He emphasised these last words. "But he knows that incest and pedophilia are bad things. He feels guilty, therefore he feels he must dissassociate from each other the thoughts of sex and male bodies."

Winston felt like something huge was pressing against his chest, he had to concentrate on breathing, swallowing. He couldn't look at Peter.

"Anyway, it's just a hypothesis. I guess if there were such a hypothetical guy, all grown up, he'd be able to realize in his conscious mind that being involved with an adult male who's unrelated to him would be a completely different situation. The dreams would stop because he'd realize they were irrelevant to the current situation, just old stuff hanging around. Aaannnd... on that note. Do I hear Egon calling me?"

"No."

There was long silence, then Peter reached over and lightly rested his hand on Winston's shoulder for a moment, gave a gentle squeeze, then pulled away. "Now you know why I can't really do this job professionally. I really couldn't deal with this type of thing with strangers."

Winston managed to school his voice to say, "I appreciate your efforts, Pete."

"Yeahwhatever. S'okay." Winston still couldn't look at Peter, but he suspected he'd be shrugging.

"It's my night to cook," said Winston, "I should go start that."

"Oh, what are we having?"

"Curried goat."

"It's always nice when it's your turn, so we can depend on having something nice and normal. Or at least, something that's actually food."

"And *you* don't have to cook it." The desperate appeal to normalcy allowed Winston to look at Peter again.

"That's always a good thing!" Peter grinned. He was never the least bit guilty about his own lazyness. He jumped down off the dryer and turned toward the pile of magazines they left down here. "Wow, there's a lot I haven't read."

"I'd better go catch the goat." Winston glanced back as he started up the stairs and saw Peter had settled back into the kitchen chair, flipping through a magazine from back to front.

It hadn't been an easy discussion at all, but it did Winston some good, and the dreams were occurring much less frequently, now. In fact, he now realized as he drove, that he hadn't had one of those dreams in several days. Maybe he was really past it. He glanced over at Ray, balancing two cartons on his lap, who immediately handed him a teryaki stick. During the month the image of curling around Ray to sleep had sometimes attracted and occasionally severely repulsed him, but it had become much more familiar, and finally in the past week it had become a pleasant amusement to tease himself with as he fell asleep. It was a warm, comforting thought to know that Ray wouldn't mind him thinking about such a thing.

Arriving home, beat, they still vied for the shower as usual, Peter showing a burst of speed that put his runs from goopers to shame and his complaints of exhaustion to the lie. Ray lagged behind the rest, and Winston slowed to wait for him on the stair. They took the hall at a more sedate pace - they had plenty of time now as Egon had chased Peter into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Feeling it already?"

"Yeah. Sorer than I expected to be."

Winston weighed his options and decided bargaining sounded better. "Tell you what - if you let me shower first I'll give you a backrub when you get out."

"Oh now, you don't have to do that, you can go first." Ray appeared to be a bit pink - apparently bargaining hadn't made the offer sound usual and normal, as Winston had hoped. Ray was imbuing a backrub with connotations, which Winston was fully aware of but had hoped to avoid for the moment.

He decided it might be better to come clean. "Look, Ray; I still don't know, really, what I want to do. But I realized, when you hurt yourself today... It scared me. It was the sort of thing that can happen any day. People break their necks falling down stairs in their own homes every day. I just realized I've been kind of basking in this feeling of being... I dunno... important to you?"

"Loved," Ray responded, firmly and quietly.

"Loved. Yes. But I realized I've been getting and not giving you anything back."

"You don't have to."

"I do care about you, Ray. I'm not exactly sure how far I can go with that. But at least let me try to make your back feel better. I don't want to think any further than that for the moment, but if we can both just go into it assuming that all I'm going to do is rub your back, I think I can do that."

Ray smiled. "I think I can do that, too."

"You sound like you're as nervous as I am."

"Of course I'm nervous. I don't want to mess up the friendship we have. And things have felt a little tense since we talked."

Winston nodded. 'A little tense' was an understatement. As Ray had attempted to stay out of Winston's physical space every slight touch and look had become charged. "Somehow I thought you wouldn't be all that nervouse about the whole thing, though. I mean, Pete said - "

At that moment Egon, towel-wrapped, led a still somewhat dripping Peter, complaining of the cold, out of the bathroom and quickly on up the hall toward their own room.

Now Ray turned beet red. "Uh..."

Winston put a hand on Ray's arm. "Don't worry about it. He didn't say much, said he was going to leave it up to you. Let me take my shower and we'll discuss it later."

Ray hesitantly nodded. "I just don't want you to think -" he began.

"I'm not thinking anything. You're a good person, I know that. My opinion of you won't change. I'm going to shower, I'll be quick. I'll try to leave plenty of hot water."

When Winston emerged from the bathroom a few mintus later, wrapped in his towel, Ray was sitting on the floor in the hall with his back against the wall, and he looked up at Winston through his eyebrows. The earlier blush had faded, but he again became slightly pink.

"What's that look about?" Winston asked, amused by his new found ability to make Ray blush as he turned redder.

Ray rose from the floor, stiff and clumsy, and Winston reached to steady him. "I, uh, I'll tell you later," he responded. Ray smiled and shut the bathroom door firmly behind him.

Winston happily wandered off. This was different than any relationship had he'd had before, but it was fun. He backtracked around that thought, looked at if from a couple of angles. Had he made his decision when he thought he was just preparing to make it?

Winston's knock at Peter and Egon's room was answered by Egon't narrow face, with raised eyebrows. It was the look that Egon used to mean 'dispense with formalities and inform me of your needs quickly so I can get on with what I'm doing.'

"Would you guys have any massage oil I could borrow?"

"Just a moment." The door was shut again, and from behind it he heard movement, a drawer slide, an unintelligeble query from Peter, and Egon stated, "For Winston."

"Massage oil? Winston?? Lemme up, lemme up!"

"Patience." A moment of rustling movements followed, then the door was thrown open by a pyjama-pants clad Peter.

"Okay, who's giving massages to who, and more importantly - can I watch?" He waggled his eyebrows and leered, as Egon came up behind him with the small bottle of oil in his hand.

"Peter."

Egon's familiar quiet warning tone, as always, had his partner's immediate attention, although his lascivious grin only faded slightly.

"It is not our business." Nevertheless, Egon's face betrayed curiosity.

Winston gave Egon a small smile intended as thanks for his restraint. To Peter he responded, "Can we, for the moment, assume that a massage is literally all that we plan on doing? Ray actually banged his back up badly falling down the stairs."

"Okay, big guy, sure thing!" Peter gave him a wink. "Only if you were really concerned about his muscles you'd be looking for the bengay, not vanilla-scented oil.

Egon rolled his eyes and shook his head, then tugged Peter back into their room.

Winston inwardly groaned - Peter was right, he should have grabbed the bengay. He really wasn't sure himself what his intentions were. He was trying to not have intentions or expectations, at the moment. Back in the bunkroom he hesitated over whether to dress in day clothes or pyjamas. It was really a little early for pyjamas, but he didn't anticipate going out again. Yet pymajas left him feeling a little underdressed in the situation. Yet on the third hand he didn't want to have to change again when Ray was present, given the situation he was setting up. He settled for pyjamas with underwear - not as comfortable, but not as exposed - and had barely managed to pull them on before Ray entered.

Apparently Ray had thought ahead about the situation. Still damp from his shower he was wearing his sensible cotton pyjamas - the ones with green pinstripes, which set off his auburn hair. And in his hand - bengay.

Ray glanced around the room, then back at Winston, quickly, then away again. The tension of the past month was nothing compared to this, and Winston wasn't at all sure what to do about it. He crossed the room and put a hand on Ray's shoulder.

"Did your shower make you feel better?" Winston gave him a very gentle push into the room and shut the door.

"Yes, lots," Ray answered quickly. "You don't have to do this, really," he added, as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Would you really rather not?" Winston asked as he moved aside Dopey Dog in order to settle next to Ray.

"Well, no. But I'm just afraid of pushing you too fast."

"You didn't suggest this. I did. Yeah, I'm nervous, but that's why I said I only wanted to commit as far as doing a backrub for the moment." He'd slid his hand from Ray's upper arm to his upper back, where he was stroking circles. Whether to calm Ray or himself he wasn't sure. He realized that a kiss right now would go a long way toward convincing Ray that he was aware of what he was doing. He hadn't kissed Ray again since that first time, a month before, and then he'd had plenty of alcohol coursing through his veins. Sober, he was fearful. He had talked through every objection he could think of with Peter over the past two month and had attempted to sound out his family on their probably attitude without alarming them, and still... "I'm terrified," he admitted aloud.

"Tell me about it," Ray sighed. Then he looked Winston in the eye. "Yes, tell me, maybe it will help."

"I'm scared of what might happen. I think I want to try this. That's why I thought the massage thing might be a good idea. I wanted to find out how I felt about being really close, physically I mean. But I don't know how this thing might work out. I can't see how this goes. Should go. Will go."

"You can't know how something like this might go. You can't ever know."

"With women I sort of can. I understand the pattern the romance takes. I pursue, she chooses me, I court her, there's certain stages everything goes through. There's the time when you're not sure you'll get a date, then when you're pretty sure, then you get to the point where it's a foregone conclusion you'll spend the weekend together. Then you might move in together. That pattern is completely out the window here, already."

"Oh. Yeah, I see what you mean."

"I don't even know how to court you." Winston wet his lips and dropped his eyes. "I don't want to say I'm going to do this and then screw it up and hurt you. I mean, what if I can't do it at all, really? I mean what if I can't physically..."

"Have sex with me?"

"Yeah. I can't even say it, yet, what if I can't do it?"

Ray looked perplexed. "I think you're getting way too far ahead of yourself, here. That's not something I'm all that concerned about." Then his eyes narrowed mischeviously. "Maybe you should just shut up and kiss me?"

As usual, Winston felt the corners of his mouth rise as he was tugged along by Ray's momentum, and he leaned in with barely another thought. It was only as the kiss was ending that he realized his intentions had gone by the wayside and he'd failed to be the initiator yet again. He decided that was okay, though. Another time.

"It's good," he murmured, opening his eyes to look at Ray at close range. "Yeah." He grinned. "But you really are avoiding the seriousness of this situation. I mean, am I going to have to learn to sing show tunes?"

That made Ray chuckle. "Come on, some show tunes aren't so bad." He regarded Winston thoughtfully. "I don't particularly understand people and what they expect, like you do. But sometimes I think I'm better of, because I can ignore them. Inanimate objects and forces of nature don't care who I love. But then I don't have family to think about, like you do. I guess it's a whole lot easier for me, in that way. You, Peter and Egon really are my only family, and you'll let me know when I'm being dumb. And accept me. And stuff. Um." His gaze wandered and then came back. "So, what about your family? Have you talked to them?"

"Not exactly, no. In some ways I just don't think it's their business at the moment. Later, sure, but not yet. And I guess I don't want to open up the chance for them to give me a negative reaction and have that play into my decision."

"If it would be really bad... you don't have to."

"But I don't want to decide to not be with you just because my family objects. It's my life, it has to be my decision. And if I got a negative reaction and then decided to be with you I'd worry that my decision was made out of contraryness. I don't want that either. But I have tried to sound them out. Near as I can tell they may be confused, shocked, upset, but they'll probably get over it."

Ray let out his breath. "Okay. So... Do I have to take off my shirt for this backrub?"

Winston grinned. "Uness you want oil on your nightshirt."

"My pants?"

"Um, maybe not yet?"

"Your shirt?" Ray continued, undaunted.

"If you want," Winston replied, reaching to unbutton his pyjama top.

Ray grabbed both of his hands. "Let me?" He began to undo the top button, met Winston's eyes with a small smile, and carefully touched his lips to the base of Winston's throat. As he undid each of the first three buttons his gentle kisses moved down, and then his fingers moved accross Winston's belly as he licked and nibbled with greater intensity at Winston's chest, and neck, sliding the shirt off Winston's shoulders with little noises of delight.

Winston had rarely had anyone seem so completely focused on him, so physically and obviously eager. As always, Ray's enthusiasm made him smile, and now he realized it was also turning him on, and he realized he'd better keep his mind on what he was doing or this could very easily get out of hand.

He needed to get events back on the track he'd planned. With a small growl of frustration he grabbed Ray's wrists and pushed him back.

Ray fell backward onto the bed, which resulted in Winston being pulled on top of him, so that he had Ray's wrists pinned, at which situation Ray looked delighted.

"Will you cut it out!" Winston responded laughingly, adding a light punch to Ray's shoulder for emphasis. Immediately he smiled and smoothed his hand down Ray's shoulder by way of appology, then his hand moved on down to the front of Ray's pyjama shirt. Winston kept talking to distract both of them as he undid the buttons. "I'm trying hard to wait - I'm telling myself it will be better later. I think we need to talk some more." He pulled the last button open and stroked his hand accross the pale skin of Ray's belly, then slid his long, dark fingers up into the mat of shining red curling hair of his chest. He paused to breath in, then out, trying to calm himself. "Roll over."

Ray smiled. "I suppose under these circumstances I could allow YOU to give me orders." He rolled himself fully onto the bed, face down.

This was odd - Ray generally hated anyone telling him what to do. But he was stating that he was willing to let Winston do so, in this context. An experiment begged to be made. Winston knelt stradding Ray's thighs and pulled the green striped shirt off his shoulders, sliding it down both arms at the same time, then used it to pull Ray's wrists up behind his back. He could hear Ray's breathing roughen and felt his arms tense a little, pulling experimentally against the restraint of the twisted shirt. Winston found his own breath suddenly tight in response. He held the shirt with one hand and dropped the other beside the red head below him, lowering his mouth to Ray's ear.

His voice came hoarse. "Don't let me do anything you don't want me to, Ray."

Ray twisted his head to look up at Winston from the corner of his half-closed eye. "And how could I stop you?" he whispered.

"By telling me to stop. Say the word, I will. Tell me to stop, Ray." Winston heard in his own voice an almost pleading note beneath the command.

The corner of Ray's mouth curled up just slightly. "You haven't done anything I object to so far."

Winston was suddenly aware that his position had brought his crotch firmly against Ray's round buttocks, and was almost simultaneously aware that his underwear had grown very tight very quickly. This situation had gotten quite out of hand. He swallowed, sat back, and determinedly unwound the shirt from Ray's wrists, setting it aside. Ray let out his breath in an almost sigh and moved his hands up, but said nothing. Winston took a generous amount of bengay and began working it into the muscles of Ray's back. For quite some time he concentrated as fully as he was able, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. Ray appeared to be melting into the bed, occationally making quiet, happy noises, and eventually it began to look as though he was almost asleep. "Maybe I should just let it go at that for tonight," Winston thought, "but I'd hoped to make more progress."

"Ray?"

"Mmm?"

"What was that look about?"

"Mm?"

"When I came out of the shower. You said you'd tell me later."

Ray's eyes came open, or at least the one which was up did so, and he looked up. This time he only got slightly pink. Winston noted that the blush, though slight, was on his back as well. "I was thinking that towel should be bigger. And wishing it wasn't there at all."

Winston smiled. It was pretty much as he'd thought, and he was glad Ray could tell him, now. "Thanks." Now he should press on to other matters. "I said I'd tell you what Peter said."

"Yes." Now Ray was awake and focused. He twisted under Winston, who lifted his weight off Ray's legs. Ray turned and scooted out from under Winston, up against the headboard, and pulled his knees up.

"Not a good sign," Winston thought.

"What, exactly, did he tell you?" Ray asked, nervously.

"Not much, honestly. Just... well, I was worried about the whole thing. I was worried that you ... made this offer to me because you might not feel you had a lot of choices in your life. I've never got the impression that you've had a great deal of luck getting involved with women, but I always thought you could if you wanted to. There certainly seem to be enough women interested in you, and I always thought it was just that you get all shy with them."

"I do." Ray was watching him intently.

Winston knew he wasn't getting off the hook telling part of the story. He folded his legs up and got comfortable. "So in one of those conversations with Peter I said to him that I was afraid I'd be taking advantage of you, of your thinking that you didn't have options, if I took you up on your offer. And he said that you were quite aware that you had options, and that you'd explored some of them, you were just more secure in yourself than he is and never felt a need to crow about your victories. Then he decided he'd said too much and encouraged me to talk to you about it. After that all I could get out of him was that you were a great person and that I should never think less of you for your experimenting. But he didn't need to tell me that, because I wouldn't."

Ray's eyes dropped. "Decide that after you hear. But you do have a right to know anything you want to know." He still had his arms wrapped around his knees. "There's a couple of things... First, I go to cons. Well, things happen at cons. You're in the same hotel with the same people all weekend, doing role playing games and sometimes drinking a bit. You can get carried away, you know? I've always tried to be safe with stuff I did, after the first couple of times. It got a little more so right after we got famous; a couple of times things happened so fast that I didn't even hardly know what was going on. Pretty much left me feeling more lonely than before. After a few times I learned to be more careful and avoid those people. There's some people I knew from before we got famous, though, who all keep going to the cons. There's a couple of girls - well, Sarah's not really a girl, she's actually got a grandkid - but women, who are really nice. I guess I can't say they're good friends, since I'm lucky if I see either of them once in a year, but we try to get together at the cons, we do the same role playing games and talk a lot, catch up on life, and sometimes we might... cuddle or play around a little. So..." He raised his eyes to meet Winston's.

"Oh. Okay. So. I see what Pete means about you not needing to crow about things. But I don't get why you're worried about this. Doesn't sound like anything for you to be ashamed of." Though privately he was feeling quite annoyed with the ones who'd taken advantage of Ray because of the celebrity status - at least Winston had had a chance against that sort, being able to see them for what they were. "So what are you worried about?"

"The other thing." Ray's eyes dropped again. He swallowed and then words spilled out all in a rush. "You know how Egon broke his arm and leg when he'd only been together with Peter for like a week? They were both so - their libidos were running high and Egon wanted Peter to be satisfied. We got talking, I made some suggestions, and told him I'd learned that stuff at cons. So he asked me if I would sort of, um, help him out. And they're both really important to me. So I did." He didn't look up after finishing this statement, just chewed his lip. That seemed to be all he was capable of saying for the moment.

Winston took a moment to assimilate this. Ray had had sex with Peter and Egon. So Winston himself was the only person who hadn't screwed around with everyone else living in the firehouse. Part of his brain muttered that this was pretty sick and twisted. "But then again, nothing should surprise me anymore," he thought. Should he feel angry with Egon for taking advantage of Ray? But he knew Egon genuinely cared about Ray. And he really didn't have time to think about it all at the moment, because Ray was chewing up his lower lip. Winston shifted up on the bed, feeling lumberingly clumsy, to sit next to Ray, back against the headboard. He put his arm over Ray's shoulder and snugged him close, protectively, still not knowing what to say and knowing Ray was waiting. "I'm sorry, Ray."

"What do you mean?"

"It just sucks that people keep leaving you feeling lonely."

Ray shrugged, non-committally. "Not your fault. I'm used to being lonely. I'm good at it. And," a slightly prickly note came into his voice, "I don't need you feeling sorry for me."

"Ray." Winston could hear the annoyance in his voice and stopped himself to start again. Ray was being difficult, but he could understand why - nobody wanted a pity fuck. "M'man, I know you have plenty of practice with being lonely. Hell, I always had plenty of family around, I can't say I have any idea what it was like for you..." He broke off, not wanting to bring up the painful memories which he knew Ray pushed back, of being shuffled around to foster homes after his parents died. Winston knew that before Ray met Egon and Peter in college he had never had the opportunity to develope any long-term friendships. "I think you did outstandingly well. You not only survived, you achieved, and somehow managed to remain a good person. One of the best people I know. You could probably teach me a thing or two." "And," he thought, "you may soon have to." He realized he might, himself, feel lonely soon. "But I'm glad you told me all this. I mean, yeah, it's a little different than I was expecting, but... I'm not sure how to say this. I guess it takes a weight off my mind to know that you've had more experiences than I had previously thought you had. I didn't want to be..."

"You didn't want to be corrupting me. You thought I was THAT innocent. I guess I should have boasted more, like Peter always has. I thought it was nicer to keep stuff to myself."

"It is nice, and I respect you for it. But - yeah. I think that was what I was afraid of." He thought about the dreams he'd had. "How could I corrupt someone I care about and want to protect?"

"I don't need you to protect me."

"Too damn bad. It doesn't matter about anything else, I'm still your big brother."

Ray smiled at him warmly.

"How's your back feeling, now? Do you want me to work on it some more?"

"It's fine," Ray responded.

"Okay. Could Dopey Dog sleep on the dresser? I don't think there's enough room for him and me both, here."

Ray grinned. "He's fine with that." He stood to turn back the blankets as Winston shut out the light, and then stepped around the bed and looked up into Winston's face. By the illumination from the streetlights outside Winston could easily see the eager uncertainty and question in Ray's face as he reached out hesitantly to touch the band at the top of Winston's pyjama pants. The bed was very cramped, even with Dopey Dog evicted, and Ray's back did require some more work in the morning, but neither of them minded.

***************************


End file.
